


Icarus, Wingless

by jackpip



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: (to a degree), Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Phillip just... can’t deal with it anymore, ambiguous ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackpip/pseuds/jackpip
Summary: And, my dear, I find myself lost; if I am entirely truthful, feeling the ache in my legs, feet carried only by the fog thickening my God-forsaken mind across this hell-scape of misanthropic modernism misnomered in pretence of societal progression, I hardly remember how I got here.





	Icarus, Wingless

My darling,

As I write this, my eternal damning to something worse than death, inscribed with ink I blindly trust will not run by the betrayal of my own grief, I am unsure as to when, or where, exactly, you will read it.

Perhaps this is why I hesitated, trepidation creeping over my heart and clutching it, suppressing its beats as I sat on the stone, on the edge.

The thought of existence, in any form, is agonising, pulling from me such deep an anguish that I truly fear it may never, in the course of all time, be hidden again.

The only thing worse is an existence without you.

Still, I will _not_ permit myself to be your demise, will not put the tatters of my soul above the sake of yours. I will not.

I cannot.

~~~~It is with the deepest, most ravaging pain that I find... I must leave you. That is to say, we both might find greater comfort... _elsewhere_.

Every cell in the marrow of my hollow bones is screaming, begging to _be_ more than will ever be allowed. Maybe, in another, more just world, beneath another set of silently mellifluous stars, in another life overflowing with waves of regret only ever quelled by _you_ , a son of the sun and moon themselves, I could be. _We_ could be.

Now, though, I find myself assuming a role similar to that of Icarus’ melting wings. In honesty, I place more faith in your faintest eyelash than I do in God Himself these days.

And, my dear, I find myself lost; if I am entirely truthful, feeling the ache in my legs, feet carried only by the fog thickening my God-forsaken mind across this hell-scape of misanthropic modernism misnomered in pretence of societal progression, I hardly remember how I got here.

I pray—take from this whatever connotations you will—you find comfort in the knowledge that this is not by your actions. Instead, know that I will always cherish you above all others; that, were circumstances as kind as we undoubtedly deserve, you would every day wake to my body curled in yours, warm.

My darling, chart the world for me. I will wait for you to fly closer, Icarus—I would never burn you.

Love, _forever_ ,

Your dearest, Phillip.

**Author's Note:**

> This took a surprisingly short amount of time, but I guess it is what it is! I really hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave any comments, constructive criticism or otherwise! - Jack


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